


The Maneater

by convallaria_majalis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Hate Sex, Smut, facesitting, sexual favors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-25 23:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13223496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convallaria_majalis/pseuds/convallaria_majalis
Summary: Bored with fighting, Kenobi and Ventress figure out a new way to resolve conflict.





	The Maneater

Asajj sighed. Couldn't a girl just have a night out without interruptions?

"Kenobi," she drawled, without turning around. "Did you know you're the third ex-boyfriend to pester me tonight?" 

Aurra Sing leaned across the table, drink sloshing in her hand. "Careful, or you'll end up like the other two," she slurred, with a laugh known to make grown men piss themselves. 

"Looks tasty," said another woman, a graceful Nautolan whose name (and comm code) Asajj hadn't yet gotten. "Why didn't you keep him?"

Asajj smirked. "Some men are more trouble than they're worth."

She spun around in her chair. "Bit premature with that saber, aren't you?" she asked, drawing raucous laughter from her table.

Kenobi looked put out. Point for her. "Asajj Ventress," he said tersely. "You are in possession of illegally obtained intel about a Republic military outpost. Hand it over." He swung his saber up and flicked his fingers in that ridiculous opening stance.

"Oh, put that away." Asajj rolled her eyes. "Look, we both know how this goes. I lead you on a rooftop chase, we fight in some dark alley—purely for fun, because you have no hope of beating me—and then I steal a ship, head out to some backwater system and continue doing whatever the fuck I want. Time-consuming," she leaned forward and dropped her voice to a growl, "and boring."

"Are you suggesting another option?"

Asajj drained what was left of her drink and—well, in any other bar she would have smashed the glass, but even she wouldn't cross the proprietress of the Maneater. She set it down gently on the table. "I've got the information you want. Do me a favor, and I'll hand it over. Deal?"

* * * 

Asajj rocked her hips gently back and forth. The duracrete floor of the Maneater's storeroom was cold under her legs, but at least Kenobi'd put down his cloak. You could always count on him for that chivalrous crap.

"Are you comfortable, darling?" she asked, looking down.

Kenobi grunted.

Asajj grinned. Close enough.

The Jedi were a bunch of uptight fools, it was true—but she was pleased to discover that whatever nonsense they were teaching at the Temple these days, it hadn't kept Kenobi from learning how to put his pretty mouth to work. He was good—not shy with his tongue, or his lips, or his nose for that matter. And the beard was an interesting sensation, strange but not unpleasant.

Asajj gripped his hair and gave a soft moan. Kenobi's tongue worked away steadily, moving in slow circles; it was nothing like getting head from a Nautolan, with their long versatile tongues, but having her longtime rival pinned between her legs was perfection all by itself. 

"This is a much better use for— _mmm_ —your tongue, Jedi," she taunted. "Don't you think?

Kenobi's eyes flashed, the way they did in combat, and he redoubled his efforts. Asajj chuckled, delighted. Riling him up was so easy, and so, so fun. 

And wasn't that a lovely sight—Kenobi's smug, pretentious face buried in her cunt. Exactly where he should've been all along. She thrust hard against his mouth, not caring if she was hurting him—in fact, she rather hoped she was. A faint groan seemed to confirm it. 

It was good, but not good enough. "My dear Obi-Wan," she purred. "I know you can do better than that."

A determined look crossed his face and he readjusted his grip on her thighs—and _oh_ , he certainly could. Asajj hoped that someone at the Temple was appreciating his skill on a regular basis, because it would be a real shame to waste. She relaxed into the haze of pleasure, feeling warmth like a tiny sun beginning to soak into her muscles. How long had it been since she really took some time to enjoy herself? Far too long. 

Well, she was going to make up for it now. Asajj sighed deeply, absolutely nothing on her mind but her own pleasure. 

There was a soft groan from underneath her. 

Oh, right. Kenobi. 

Should she let him up for a break? Probably.

Was she going to? Well, what kind of idiot question was that?

She bit her lip in bliss and ground down harder. From the way his eyes rolled back, Kenobi seemed to like that, and he seemed to like it more when Asajj held fast to his hair and let her body take exactly what she wanted. 

Asajj came with a string of breathless curses, cut off by a soundless moan as her climax hit full power. 

Oh, hell. That was _delicious._

She rode out the wave of pleasure until it died away, the bright shocks of sensitivity making her hips jerk a few final times against Kenobi's mouth. At last, legs shaking, she pushed herself off him and forced air back into her lungs. 

"Not bad, for a Jedi," she muttered, looking down to survey her work. 

Kenobi's face was a mess. Lips bright red and wet, eyes glazed over, hair disheveled where she'd yanked at it. She leaned down to leave a dark lipstick mark on his cheek, then tucked the stolen datachip under his collar. Perfect.

Kenobi shook himself alert—and noticed the handcuffs. He fixed Asajj with a reproachful look. "Oh, I see, you're just going to leave me like this."

It wasn't what he meant, but Asajj chuckled low and reached between his legs anyway. "Sorry, sweetheart. _This_ wasn't part of the deal." She gave a sharp squeeze just to hear him gasp, then stood, smoothed out her skirts, and strode out of the room.

* * *

"Celebratin' another conquest, love?" asked the barmaid, a pint-size Chagrian with a wicked grin.

"You got it." Asajj took the ice-cold glass, with its swirling, glittery liquor, and relaxed against the bar.

She imagined Kenobi slinking out the back of the Maneater to catcalls and jeers, and smiled. She'd bet good money that Big Brenda would smack his ass as he slid out the door. 

This was fun. Maybe they could do it again sometime.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic exists mostly because I couldn't think of any smut in which someone sat on Kenobi's face. If you know of any more, link me! :]


End file.
